What Shall I Wear
By David Michael Jackson
I checked my closet today
Will I wear my feelings on my sleeve
Will it be my waistcoat of sadness
with the hopeless cape of yesterday
I would wear instead a shirt of love
with a coat of pure kindness
and shoes of a good journey
and gloves of giving
I look into a grey sky
and ask for help
with my wardrobe
The news hit hard again
as he shuffled in the line and
searched his pockets
for tickets, his mind for answers.
“They cannot be so stupid as to return
to those days”
His face grew redder and redder,
His hair started to smoke.
The smoke rose into the grey sky.
Suddenly his entire head burst into flames.
He ran down the street, No
No
No”
My hair is tangled
as I run my fingers through it
and I hold it out from my head
to cut or brush
away my loneliness.
Armed with just my brush
to untangle my world,
the tangled hair
catches the bristles
as I brush the mess
for a moment
into smooth lines
in the mirror.
Even curls can’t
cover the furrows
in my forehead,
in my soul,
but I try
because I must try.
We must try.
By David Michael Jackson
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It’s not over ’til it’s over in New York, Kentucky
It’s not over ’til it’s over in California, Kansas
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the homeless
for the blacks
for those in cages
for those behind bars
for the soldier
It’s not over ’til it’s over for those without insurance
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the nursing homes
It’s not over ’til it’s over for the nurses
for the doctors
for the sales clerks
for the workers everywhere
It’s not over ’til it’s over
for an old man,
afraid to go out.
David Michael Jackson
We like each other.
This is like telling the birds
to not gather in flocks,
the buffalo to not travel in herds,
the wolf to hunt alone.
There is a hurt in it,
a primal pain.
Like an ant separated from the colony, we
search for the trail left by the others.